Smile
by amour tue lentement
Summary: Ichimarus always smiled. The story of a silver-haired boy and his Chrysanthemum in Rukongai, each in 200 words.
1. Smile

**Disclaimer: not Kubo Tite ;)**

**AN: Idk why, I'm just in a kind of short-angsty story mood. And yeah, these are going to be short as hell.**

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_S_**m**_**i**__l_e

-1-

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Ichimarus always smiled.

Ichimaru Hana kept a shaky smile on her face as dark realization crept in. Tears streamed from her eyes as she grabbed her baby boy, backing away. There was nowhere to go; and she knew it. But backing away gave her the small hope that maybe; just maybe, she'd back into a doorway, and find her escape. No such luck.

Ichimaru Daisuke wore his taunting smile as he approached his trembling wife. His son just stayed put in Hana's arms, smiling to himself in his sleep, completely unaware of the world around him. Daisuke smiled a little more, looking at his own reflection in the glossy silver blade in his hand.

Ichimarus always smiled...except when emotions got the better of them.

Ichimaru Hana screamed as the knife pierced her flesh, falling to the ground, and dropping her child on the floor.

Ichimaru Daisuke's smile had faded into an intense scowl as he stabbed her over and over again, wanting nothing more than to stop her screaming.

Ichimaru Gin opened sleepy eyes, not bothering to rub a blood-stained face. He opened his mouth to cry, but was shoved backwards against the wall.

"Stop that damn frowning."

He did.


	2. Silver

**AN: Maybe I should do another one**** for someone else. Oh well :p**

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S**i**_l__**v**_e_**r**_

-2-

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"Bastard," he would say, spitting onto the dirt floor of the hut in Rukongai. He would sit, peeling fruit with his favorite knife. "I don't know whose child you are. Nobody in my goddamned family's got that fucking hair." He would grab a few silver strands in disgust.

Too young to understand the words, Gin understood the meaning.

Gin would keep drawing in the dirt, illustrating labeled pictures of people. 'Grumpy' down the street, who wouldn't spare a single fruit for the starving child, was being torn to pieces by hollows. The 'Mean Lady' from the Sereitei being lit on fire. A collage of sloppy stick figures dying painful deaths soon covered the floor.

"Damned silver hair." He would mutter to himself. "That fucking whore. Deserved to die. Correct?" He grabbed Gin's hair again, pulling his head back, expecting a response.

"Yes."

This was the routine. He would sit there and peel oranges, potatoes, carrots, whatever he'd managed to steal for himself, using his son's young age as a distraction. People pitied starving youth. One day it was persimmons. He choked and died right there on the floor.

Gin reached over and tried one silently. They became Gin's favorite food.


	3. Squint

**AN: R&R ;). God keeping these to only 200 words is a pain; but I want to challenge myself :p

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_**S**_qu**i**_**n**__t_

-3-

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Life was better when you didn't have to face it.

Once upon a time, Gin had wandered Rukongai, red eyes wide open. He took it all in. He saw the ribs of the starving poking out like quills. He saw the bodies that littered the ground – _just step over them, _his father used to say. Blood splattered walls like paint; some didn't even bother to clean it up. People were killed right there, publicly. Dog eat dog, survival of the fittest: the strong lorded over the weak.

Like that one day, that fat man.

"Why don't you gimme that food?" The fruits were snatched out of Gin's hand. The man took a huge bite, high off his followers' laughter. "The hell is this?" He spat the persimmon out on the floor, stomping it into the dirt. He grabbed the rest, dumping it.

Gin remembered the next moment with amazing clarity. How, in one effortless, almost natural motion, he'd taken the knife from the man's pocket. The way the man's "friends" had scattered like dandelions in the wind. The way his blood spewed.

But most of all: the feeling. Part of him was contented – the starving of a hungry soul satisfied.


	4. Sands

**AN: Gin&Ran coming soon :D

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S_**a**_n_d_**s**

-4-

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People didn't take too kindly to bloodlust. They didn't care if you'd only killed the bastard who stole food from children. It didn't matter if it was only the man with the superiority complex. Nobody cared if you were trying to do the world a favor, the same way the world had done you one, killing your father. Eventually, Gin realized bitterly, people found that unsettling, and damned creepy. Eventually, you would have to contain yourself.

Gin found his home in the empty dunes outside Rukongai, among the persimmon trees. Where the air was sticky and humid, and there were no other humans in sight.

But one day, there was someone else.

"_Here, take one."_

It was something he hadn't seen in years – another human face. Eyes the icy blue of daybreak, matted blonde hair. He approached her carefully, almost as though she would disappear if he moved too suddenly. He did what he was trained to do, offering what in his mind was a friendly smile. It felt more like a mask.

She stared at him, taking it slowly. He sat down on a rock next to her, staring at the persimmons gathered in his hand.

"_Ichimaru Gin."_

"…_Matsumoto."_


	5. Strange

**AN: **Maybe I'll have an occasional chapter to lighten the mood. Maybe. :p

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_S_**t**r**a**_n_g**e**

-5-

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This Matsumoto Rangiku was a strange creature. Her moods swung like a rickety bridge, and the smallest things managed to send her into a rage. If he didn't greet her every morning, she would refuse to talk for a day. If he didn't practice the '_ladies first' _rule that she'd introduced, she would lecture him for hours. _"That's no way to treat a woman!"_

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Matsumoto asked. _Pretty? _Gin had never even heard of such a thing. There was no beauty in Rukongai, only wretchedness. "Pretty like beautiful! Do you feel happy when you see me?"

How would one define happy? Gin knew was that it had something to do with smiling, so yes, he must've been very happy.

One time, Gin had found something pretty. A pale white flower was blooming near the carcass of some animal. (It could've just as easily been a human's corpse.) The petals were in pristine condition, unless you counted the droplets of dried blood adorning them.

"Eww!" Matsumoto had shrieked.

To his eyes, it was beautiful. Perfection, stained in the fluid of life.

"It's beautiful!"

"You're weird!"

He plucked the flower, and placed it in her hair, smiling. "Pretty."


	6. Shinso

**AN: **Was anyone else seriously annoyed by that whole thing Kubo set up with Matsumoto and Gin? Usually, he caters to the fans first :(, but that was…such a letdown.

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**S**h_**i**_ns**o**

-6-

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At times, it spoke. (If he had anything resembling honor, Gin would have sworn on it.)

The little switchblade he'd stolen from that _one_ man that _one_ day had a presence larger than life. When he held it, it was lead. It was heavy, dull, aching to be used for _something _other than cutting up fruit. It slipped from his hands whenever he tried to use it, if it wasn't cutting through small animals, it cut through his finger. Gin would stare and wonder, even when it swelled and became infected, why he couldn't feel any pain.

When he didn't hold it, his fingers itched, twitching at his sides.

He _needed _to use it. It _needed _to be used.

It seemed unnatural to leave it tucked into his kimono. The blade sucked the energy from the air itself, looming. No one else knew about it – Gin was sure no one would believe it. Not even Matsumoto, who only saw it as a "stupid boy thing".

Some nights, he swore he could see it – the soul-sucking spirit. Yellow eyes watched over him from above.

Gin held it, tracing the tip with open eyes. "What are you?"

With a serpentine tongue: _"Shinso."_


End file.
